Trouble with the Van Houtens
by Little Miss Lovejoy
Summary: The Van Houten's marriage is rickety again causing their troubled son to be . . . more troubled.
1. Chapter 1

"Well, aren't you handsome?"

"Why, thank you, Luann! You are looking quite lovely yourself." Kirk Van Houten walked over towards his wife, hoping for a hug, or even a kiss, if he was lucky.

"Ugh, I wasn't talking to _you_," the woman pushed her husband away. "I was talking to Milhouse!" She pointed to their son, who grinned. He was all dressed up for the school dance that evening. "When is the last time I've even ever said such a thing to _you_, Kirk?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"March of 1993," Kirk replied dryly.

"And, as I recall, I'd had had a _little_ too much to drink that night!"

"Oh, come on, Luann!" Kirk sighed, exasperated.

Luann ignored him and asked if Milhouse if he had his money. "Right here, Mom!" Milhouse held up the change purse his father had bought for him.

"Oh, no you don't!" Luann snatched the purse from him, taking the money out and shoving it in her son's pockets. "You keep your money in your pockets like a normal little boy!"

Kirk sighed, knowing that was meant to insult him and his own change purse. He did not see what the big deal was.

"You're taking him to the school because I have to get ready for my own plans tonight."

"What?" Kirk turned to their son. "Go wait in the car, Milhouse."

"Okay, Dad! Don't forget we have to pick up Lisa!"

"Yeah, yeah. I won't be long, son."

Milhouse skipped happily to the car. He could not believe that Lisa had accepted his offer to take her to the dance. Deep down, he knew it was probably out of pity, but he was too excited to care.

Kirk turned to his wife, frowning. "Just where do you think you're going?"

"As if it was any of your business!"

"Are you going on a date?" his eyes drooped, worriedly.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But if I were, you wouldn't dare try to stop me because you know that I deserve better!" She did not smile, she kept eye contact until she had finished speaking and then wheeled around without much of a regret, heading upstairs to get dressed.

* * *

Kirk muttered under his breath all the way to the car. He did know that Luann deserved better, but he could not help his unemployment. How was he supposed to have known that his father's cracker company would go from being number one to number six? He was not a fortune teller, but he knew something he was, for certain—a husband and a father, and he loved both his wife and his son very much. But love, it seemed, wasn't enough. He needed to be able to support his family, but what was he to do? Everyone viewed him as a huge loser—Luann being the most judgmental of all, and that was not encouraging in the least.

"Are you and Mom okay?"

Kirk smiled back at his son, who had strapped himself in his child seat. "We're as okay as we always are, son."

"So . . . not okay at all," The boy frowned.

"Yeah," Kirk sighed, facing the front again.

There was a silence as he started driving toward the Simpsons' house. Milhouse finally spoke up again. "Why doesn't Mom like you?"

"Because I'm a loser," Kirk responded simply.

"Are not! Me and you are a lot alike, and Mom says I'm cool so you must be cool, too!"

Kirk shook his head. "No, son. Your mom just says that to make you both feel better. You and I are losers."

"But we're cool losers . . . right?" Milhouse smiled, hopeful. "I got a date so I must be pretty cool!"

"How many times have you asked this girl out?"

"At least a dozen!"

"And why do you think she accepted this time?"

"Because she realized how cool I am!"

"Son, it's out of pity, most likely."

Milhouse started crying suddenly, and Kirk sighed. "We're here; stop crying and be a man."

The boy sniffed, nodding. Kirk blasted the car horn, and Lisa reluctantly came out of the house in a pink dress.

"Aw, man, why does Lisa get a date, and I don't?" Bart complained.

"I would happily give you mine."

"Lisa!" their mother scolded. She then smiled. "Have fun, kids! Don't stay out too late!" She teased with a giggle.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Homer added.

"So raiding the entire buffet is a yes?" Bart joked.

"Why you little . . . !" Homer reached for Bart's neck, but he had escaped to the Van Houten's car before he could grab him.

Bart pushed his sister in the backseat first, insisting she sit by her date.

"Hey, Lisa!" Milhouse grinned widely.

Lisa blinked, about to question why he was in a car seat but decided it would be best not to ask. "Hello, Milhouse. You look . . . nice."

"Really? Thanks! My mom said I looked handsome, but _apparently_ she's been lying to me." He scowled.

"Oh," was all Lisa said, scooting away from the troubled boy a bit.

"You look beautiful, Lisa," he added, smiling to he

Lisa blushed a little. "Thank you, Milhouse."

"Lisa's got a boyfriend! Lisa's got a boyfriend!" Bart teased.

"He's _not_ my boyfriend!" Lisa exclaimed, clenching her fists.

"We're dancing partners!" Milhouse smiled.

Lisa's eyes widened. "Dancing? Milhouse, I said you could take me to the dance. I didn't say anything about dancing!"

"What?" Milhouse's face fell.

Bart started laughing hard, humiliating Milhouse even more.

Lisa felt bad and said, "Okay, maybe I will dance a few numbers with you, Milhouse."

"Score!" Milhouse threw his hands in the air with a grin. He noticed in the rearview mirror, his father putting his hand in the shape of an L to his forehead, and he sighed.

* * *

Luann was busy at home, getting ready for her night out. She had put on her favorite short, dark blue dress and was now applying her makeup. Kirk had nailed it—she was indeed going on a date. But she could hardly regret it. When was the last time Kirk had taken her out? He couldn't afford upscale dining if he tried! She wasn't going to let her husband bring her down. She wouldn't just sit around the house wasting her life away. She was going to have fun; she was going to be happy, at least for one night.

* * *

"You kids have fun!"

"Thank you, Mr. Van Houten," Lisa said politely. "Please pick us up no earlier than ten o'clock because as class president, I must stay behind and help the student council clean up afterwards."

"I can't believe you're still president even after what Skinner and the teachers did to you, Lis," her brother said.

"Oh them? They won't wrap me around their finger ever again. Besides, I do Miss Hoover's taxes. She is at my mercy," Lisa giggled as they got out of the car.

"Wow," Bart marveled, imagining what it would be like to have his own teacher at _his_ mercy. He chuckled darkly as they entered the school gymnasium.

Scanning the room, Bart could see just about everyone had dates but him. What was the point of being such a cool, bad boy if nobody wanted to be your date? It made his stomach knot seeing some of his old girlfriends like Jessica Lovejoy and Mary Spuckler, all with dates. He sighed and sat in a chair near the food, feeling he would be pulling a Homer and eating his feelings.

Nelson walked over with his dates—the twins, Sherri and Terri. "Hey, Simpson, you can have one of my dates!"

"Really?" Bart straightened in his seat and smiled.

"For twenty bucks," Nelson grinned.

"No way, man!" Bart crossed his arms. Not only did he think that putting a price on a girl was wrong, he also did not have twenty bucks on him.

"That's too bad. I wouldn't have minded dancing with you, Bart," Terri smiled.

Bart smiled back. "Really? You'd want to dance with me?"

"She said she wouldn't have _minded_, not that she wanted to!" Sherri giggled as Nelson led them away. He stopped long enough to turn around and point at Bart, saying, "Ha ha! You're all alone!"

Bart felt tears trying to come, but he fought them back. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his teacher. She looked gorgeous. She was wearing a simple green dress, but it still accentuated her body more than her regular outfit. _Damn_, he thought. It was interesting seeing teachers in different clothes; he never imagined they actually looked good.

"I would dance with you, Bart."

"You would?" Bart raised his eyes.

"No," Mrs. Krabappel smiled. "I was only trying to make you feel better." As she was being whisked away by the principal, she called back, "I already have a date! Ha!"

"You snooze, you lose, Simpson!" Principal Skinner chuckled, giving Edna a twirl.

Bart groaned. Lisa walked over to her brother and smiled sympathetically. "Don't worry, Bart. If you ask me, school dances are a bit overrated. They are just an excuse for the school to make an extra buck, and for the teachers to be able to let their hair down . . ." Her eyes followed Skinner and Krabappel, who were headed into a closet, kissing all the way there. She closed her eyes momentarily. "And to make out in closets, apparently."

"Make out in closets!?" Milhouse appeared beside Lisa, handing her a glass of fruit punch.

"Not you and me, Milhouse. Not on your life."

"Rats!"

* * *

Kirk was driving—to where, he did not know. He was just driving. He hated the thought of Luann being out with another man; he knew that was where she was, but what was he supposed to do about it? Leaving her would only give her what she wanted. He loved her so much; he only wanted to impress her, surprise her, make her happy. These are things he had failed to be able to do for years.

Either Luann had high standards, or he really was just a low life. He figured it was a mixture of the two. He just wished he could make something of himself and could support his family the way he knew he was supposed to. He hated letting Luann down so much. Though he had already let her down so much, he did not think he could let her down any lower. But yet she still stayed with him. Why was that?

* * *

Luann was not sure why she stayed with Kirk. As much as he got on her last nerve and as poor as he was, forcing her to steal clothes from the church donation box, too embarrassed to ask . . . She still stayed with him. She was getting a glimpse of how amazing her life could be if she left him. She was dining with a man who had a good deal of money; he could give her anything she wanted and more, but she knew at the end of the night, she would still be crawling into bed with her husband. Perhaps it was because she loved him, but she really believed it was for Milhouse. They had put him through enough trauma with one divorce. She could not do that to him again.

Her date stroked her hand and spoke in a low voice. "Want to go to my place after this?"

Luann simply nodded. If she was going to cheat, she might as well go all out. After all, she wanted to make herself happy. She wasn't sure if this was going to make her truly happy, though. This wasn't the first time she had done this, and after every time, she ended up feeling lousy. She did not know what to do to make it truly work out so she was happy with her life. She just felt stuck.

* * *

Lisa had danced with Milhouse during a few songs, but the majority of the time, she was ditching him for a book or her friends, and Milhouse did not know what that meant. He sighed and sat beside his best friend, who was shoveling brownies down his throat.

"I don't even know where my date is," Milhouse said sadly.

"Hey, at least you _have_ a date!" Bart swallowed the brownie he was eating. He was starting to feel sick at his stomach; he did not know how his father held down so much.

"Sorry, Bart," Milhouse frowned. "I don't know why I even bother with your sister, though. She doesn't like me. She doesn't even want to dance with me!"

"It could have something to do with the fact you kept stepping on her feet," Bart pointed out honestly.

"Look at those dorks!" Jimbo Jones pointed, standing alongside the other bullies and their girlfriends.

"Yeah, I bet they didn't even get a kiss!" Kearney added, holding his girlfriend close, who looked considerably older than him.

"Dude, why'd you bring my mom?" Jimbo looked at Kearney, horrified.

"She fills the hole my ex-wife left in my heart . . . Plus she said she wanted to keep an eye on you." Kearney shrugged.

"I've been watching you, James," his mother pursed her lips, causing Jimbo to yelp, and his girlfriend to run away.

"Everybody got kisses!" Nelson said. "Even if some like me were gentlemanly and only gave cheek kisses." He smiled and pecked both Sherri and Terri's cheeks, making them giggle.

"And others were not so gentlemanly . . . " Principal Skinner said with a chuckle, as he and Mrs. Krabappel reappeared, looking quite disheveled yet satisfied.

* * *

Kirk had driven so far into the middle of nowhere that he hardly knew where he was. He stopped his car on the side of the road, feeling like he could cry. "Luann! Why can't we just get along? I wish we could just have a normal, happy family, but I guess we never will because I'm a big, fat loser!" His head fell onto his steering wheel, honking his car horn as he sobbed. Realizing what time it was, he knew he had to turn around to pick up the kids. He only hoped that he had enough gas in the car to make it.

* * *

Luann got home after eleven, feeling quite refreshed, having experienced a night full of wonderful things that Kirk would never be able to give her. However, seeing no one was home yet worried her. It was very late, well past their son's bedtime. She showered and got ready for bed and ended up pouring herself a glass of wine while she sat up waiting.

Luckily, she could not have too much to drink before they arrived around half past eleven.

"Where have you been?" She demanded.

"Mom, I'm sleepy," Milhouse complained.

"Go wash up for bed, sweetie," she smiled to her son. After he left, she turned to Kirk. "Explain yourself!"

"The car ran out of gas, and I had no money to fill it so I pushed the car home . . ."

She scowled. "That figures!"

"Do I have to sleep on the couch?"

"Oh, no. You will be sleeping right beside me, and I suggest sleeping with both eyes open!" She narrowed her eyes at him.

Kirk gulped as he watched his wife storm up the stairs to their son's bedroom. He sighed sadly.

"Mom, I'm so confused," Milhouse said as his mother helped him into his pajamas. "Lisa agreed to go to the dance with me, but I don't think she was enjoying herself at all. I know she doesn't like me, but I can't stop trying! I don't know what to do."

Luann nearly told him that his desperation reminded her of his father, but she bit her tongue. As she tucked in the boy, she smiled. "You can tell Dr. Waxler all about it at your next appointment."

"But Dr. Waxler doesn't help; she just listens! Why can't someone _help_ me with my problems?"

"That sounds like a good question for Dr. Waxler."

Milhouse sighed.

"Do you want Mommy to tell you a story?"

"Yes, please!" Milhouse sat up with a grin.

Luann sat on the bed beside her son and smiled. "Once upon a time, there was a mommy and a daddy . . ."

"And a baby?!"

"Yes, and a baby. The baby plays an important part because he holds the family together. You see, no matter how much the mommy and daddy fought, no matter how much the daddy drove the mommy completely insane, they stayed together because they loved their little boy very much. Even though they had little money and the daddy was a complete loser who couldn't do anything right, the mommy stayed put . . . the end."

Milhouse raised his eyes. "That story had no ending!"

"That's right. It just keeps going, doesn't it?" Luann replied quietly, indifferent. She kissed her son's forehead and told him goodnight. Before turning out the light, she smiled. "I'm so sorry your daddy couldn't get you home at a reasonable time tonight."

"That's okay," he smiled. "Things happen."

Luann spoke calmly. "Yes, but if they continue to happen, don't you worry. One day, we'll go some place far away, just you and Mommy, and everything will be alright."

Milhouse let what his mother said register in his head, and becoming a bit spooked, asked, "What?"

But his mother had already turned off the light and left his room.


	2. Chapter 2

The Next evening, Milhouse was staying over with Bart in his treehouse. However, Milhouse hardly felt like reading comics by flashlight. He was trying, but really just staring right through them.

"Dude, what the Hell is wrong with you?" Bart asked, shining his flashlight in his friend's face, causing him to scream. "Calm down, man. You look like you saw a ghost. What's up?"

"My parents are scaring me. One minute they seem fine and the next they are ripping each other's heads off."

"That's just how parents are, man. Mine fight all the time," Bart shrugged.

"You don't understand, Bart. Yours have never divorced—mine have. I'm worried they will again."

"I doubt it. Something's keeping them together."

"Yeah, Mom says they stay together for me."

"Well, there you go, man."

"But that's not fair to them. . . Sometimes it seems like Mom really hates my dad. Her bedtime stories just keep getting scarier."

"Still with the bedtime stories, huh?"

Milhouse had told Bart of the creepy bedtime stories Mrs. Van Houten told. She would tell stories about how crappy it was to be married to a loser or about women trapped in loveless marriages. It was a little psycho sounding to Bart.

The blue haired boy nodded. "Bart, she really scared me last night. She told me not to worry because if Dad kept making mistakes, she'd take me with her somewhere far away."

"What the Hell, dude? She can't take you away again!"

"I know. I don't want to leave. She really scares me sometimes, Bart. Why can't she just be happy with my dad? I love both of my parents. Why can't they love each other?" He sighed sadly, looking down.

"I don't know, dude. I hope they work it out, though, for your sake. Let's get some sleep, alright?"

Milhouse merely nodded, getting into his sleeping bag, curling up with his stuffed animal, Puppy Goo Goo. Bart stayed up for a while, letting all that his friend had said soak in. Milhouse had more toiling on him than he could have imagined. He could seem so cheerful, yet have so much troubling him. Bart supposed the same could be said for him, though.

He was all tough on the outside, seeming not to have a care in the world, but he tried to have a normal conversation with his father and what did he get? "That's nice, son" or if his father had actually been listening, he'd get a strangling. All he wanted was to be heard, to have what he thought was a normal father-son relationship. He could admit to himself he had had some fun times with Homer, but when it really mattered, he wasn't there. He knew it wasn't the same as his friend's situation, but he felt he could relate.

He noticed how Milhouse held that stuffed animal and shook his head. His first reaction was to pull it away from him. However, when the kid started whimpering in his sleep, he put it back, smiling sympathetically. He then got ready for bed himself, pulling out his own Krusty doll and hugging it close.

* * *

The next afternoon after church, Luann insisted her family go on an outing. She was trying; she really was, but she just didn't feel she could fix what had been broken. They seemed content enough starting out, but her choice of outing was not the wisest. She proposed they go shopping and out to eat. The day pretty much consisted of her naming all of the things they couldn't possibly afford.

Kirk was losing it. It was humiliating and was working his late nerve. "Alright, Luann. I get it. I can't afford to buy you nice jewelry or expensive clothes. For crying out loud, who do you think you are, anyway? The Queen of England?!"

His outburst had caused a few stares. Luann looked around, a bit embarrassed, but narrowed her eyes. "You, Kirk, can hardly pay our bills let alone buy me nice things."

"Can we go eat now?" Milhouse asked. He did not want to hear his parents fighting, especially in the middle of a store.

"Good idea, Milhouse," his father said, stalking off toward the exit.

Luann took their son's hand and followed her husband.

Upon pulling into a restaurant parking lot, Luann scoffed, "Like you can afford this!"

Kirk sighed. He honestly had just wanted to treat them somewhere nice. He would figure out how to pay for it; he just wanted to make them happy. "Don't worry about it, Luann."

While looking at their menus, Luann said to Milhouse, "Be sure to order something cheap."

"Yes, Mom."

"He can order whatever the Hell he wants," Kirk insisted.

"Yes, Dad."

While eating their food, Milhouse tried to tune out his parents, but their mutterings were so deadly, it made him sick to his stomach.

"We'll be without electricity for a while now," Luann muttered, implying they would be in debt after their meal.

"At least we can say we had one good meal," Kirk muttered back.

"If we could afford more ingredients, we'd have better meals!"

"Oh, please, Luann. You can't even make toast right."

"Oh, please enlighten me on the correct way to make toast!"

"By not_ burning_ it!"

Milhouse slumped further in his seat, embarrassed by his parents and also just not feeling much like eating anymore.

Towards the end of the meal, Kirk shoved the bill over to his wife. "If you think_ I_ can't afford it,_ you_ pay for it."

"Don't be stupid, Kirk."

"Oh, what's the matter? No money? Maybe you should get a job instead of keeping your whiny head stuck up your ass."

"Kirk, do you know how hard it is to find a job?"

"Yes, yes indeed I _do_," he said firmly, leaving the table.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Home. Good luck paying the bill!"

Luann frowned, throwing down her napkin onto the table. She started digging in her purse, but couldn't find more than a ten dollar bill. What was she going to do? She could call her sister to come help, but not only would that be embarrassing, she was tired of imposing on her sister so much.

She ended up finding herself even more humiliated by being told she would have to wash dishes to pay for their meal. As she and Milhouse stood up to follow the man into the kitchen, she noticed the Lovejoys out of the corner of her eye. Helen was looking over while whispering to her uninterested great, Luann thought._ Just what I need. More humiliation. I am so sick of everything._

* * *

That night, Milhouse requested Kirk tell him a story instead. He did not think he could stomach one of his mother's stories. His father sat on his bed and smiled. "Once upon a time, there was Mama Bear, Papa Bear, and Baby Bear. . ."

"I know where this story is going! Baby Bear is what keeps Mama and Papa together, right? Because Mama and Papa fight so much 'cause Papa's a loser and Mama can't cook, but they stay together for Baby, right? Well, I think they should just get a divorce and make themselves happy!"

Kirk's eyes widened at his son's outburst. "Son, I was telling you Goldielocks and the Three Bears. . ."

"Oh," Milhouse sighed. "Sorry, continue."

Kirk could tell how distressed his son seemed, and he wished he could make it all better. "Maybe you should get some rest." He tucked Milhouse in, kissing his forehead.

"I just want everyone to be happy," the boy said quietly.

"So do I, son," Kirk said before turning off the light.

"See what you did, Luann?" Kirk said, walking into their bedroom. "Now you've got our son thinking we should divorce!"

"Oh, nonsense!"

"Maybe he's right."

"Don't be silly, Kirk. You know I can't trust you to pay child support!"

The child—maybe that truly was the only reason they were staying together.

Luann lay awake that night, unable to sleep. She was so tired of everything—the fighting, the money problems, the lack of love in the house. The only love she truly felt was with other men, and there was so many things wrong with that. Now, to top if it off, she was sure to be talked about all over town, thanks to Helen Lovejoy.

In the middle of the night, she tiptoed to the hall closet. She had emergency bags packed for her and Milhouse both, just in case. She was lucky her son was such a heavy sleeper; he did not wake as she got him out of bed and into the car.

However, Kirk awoke at the sound of the car starting up. He ran to the window, looking down at the driveway, seeing his wife driving away. He checked Milhouse's room, realizing what was going on, but just to be sure, he checked the hall closet, as well. Sure enough, the bags were gone. Also, there was a note.

_Kirk—you guessed it. We left. I don't know to where nor for how long, but perhaps you will shape up by the time we're back. You said I can't cook anyway so you should be fine. ~Luann._

Kirk sighed. Was she crazy? She just stole away with their son in the middle of the night. The kid had school! Well, he planned to try his hardest to "shape up" as she put it. He was going to try his hardest to find a new job. He wanted to live up to her expectations.

Milhouse woke early, finding himself strapped in his car seat. He looked out the window, confused, not seeing anything familiar out.

"Uh . . . Where are we going?"

"Some place far away," Luann responded calmly, watching the road with tired eyes. "Just you and Mommy."

"Ahh!" Milhouse exclaimed, trying to unbuckle himself in a panic. "Let me out!"

"Oh, Milhouse, calm down," Luann laughed softly.

"I want to go home," the boy frowned.

"Do you really? Daddy can't do much for you."

"But we don't have any money at all! We'll starve!"

Luann had not really thought of that. "We can break into your savings account."

"Ahh!" Milhouse yelled again. "Mom, I have friends in Springfield. I don't want to leave!"

"Friends? You mean that foul mouthed Simpson boy?"

"Yes," he replied firmly. As much as his mother did not exactly approve of Bart, he would always be his friend.

"You can make better friends than that."

"No, I can't. It took eight years to build the bond Bart and I have. Just like it took however many years to create what you and Dad have!"

"Oh, you mean the living Hell hole?"

Milhouse sighed, looking down sadly. He did not think he was going to win.

* * *

At lunch at Springfield Elementary, Bart was already wishing he could go home. All the kids were making fun of him, and to top it off, his best friend had disappeared. He did not bother opening his lunch; he did not feel like eating. He was tired of girls pointing and giggling at him all because he had not had a date to the stupid dance on Friday night. He noticed the principal sitting alone, looking a bit distraught.

He went over and sat next to him. "What's the matter, Skin-rash?"

Skinner frowned. "As if you actually care."

"I do care. What gave you the impression that I don't care about things?" When the man looked at him with raised eyes, he added. "Don't answer that. Seriously, though, dude. Something's eating you! What's up?"

The principal sighed. "If you must know, Edna and I are not on great terms."

"Wow! Really? I thought you looked pretty happy Friday night."

"I thought so, too, but apparently dancing and, erm. . . . " the man tried to think of a nice way to put the next part.

"Doing gross things in a closet?"

Seymour blushed a bit, but cleared his throat. "Yes. Apparently doing those things does not mean . . . Well, anything." He sighed.

"Aw, that can't be right, Seymour. She adores you!"

"How do you know?"

"Well, the way she looks at you is enough to tell!"

"Looks can be deceiving, Simpson . . . She's a real trickster."

He remembered back, sadly, to Friday night. Everything had been going so well. They had a great time at the dance, and he drove her home to her apartment. He walked her to the door, and she surprised him with yet another spontaneous kiss that led them inside to her couch.

As they were engaging in such a passionate kiss, he kept his hands at her side. He said between kisses, "I love you, Edna."

Apparently that was a mistake for she said back, "Shut up," and continued kissing him.

As much as Seymour had been enjoying the kiss, he pushed her away gently, confused. "What? I don't understand."

"You don't understand the meaning of 'shut up'?" Edna laughed. "It means shut your mouth! On second thought, keep it open," she winked, pulling close to Seymour again, slipping her tongue inside his mouth.

This was killing Seymour. He loved this feeling so much, and he loved her so much, but knowing she did not love him back hurt. He forced himself to pull away and said sadly, "I just can't win, can I?"

"I don't know, I thought you were doing pretty well; you were about to get in my pants for the second time tonight," she smirked.

"Edna, you know what I mean," Seymour said firmly.

Edna bit her lip. "Seymour . . ." she said gently. "You lost a long time ago."

So that was it. Because she left him at the altar, he would never have another real chance, yet she would keep having relations with him.

"I see," he stood up and left her on the couch without another word.

Bart touched the principal's shoulder. "I'm feeling kind of lonely myself."

"How could _you_ be lonely? There's tons of children around."

Bart laughed lightly. "Yeah, it would seem that way, but being the only loser at the dance without a date makes you the laughing stock of the whole school! And to top it off, my best friend got kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?!" Seymour said, alarmed.

"Well, kind of. I'm positive his mother drove off with him. His parents have been having problems. . . But hey," he said, getting an idea. "I can help you with Edna!"

"How?"

"I will think of something. Trust me."

"Trust you?"

"Yes. Mrs. K and I are close sometimes. I will get through to her! But you have to hold out on your end of the deal."

"What is my end?"

"You have to let me get away with playing a prank!"

"What prank?"

"Now, Seymour, I can't tell you that! I can't get the proper reaction if you know about it."

"Okay . . . but why?" The principal was very confused.

"I've got to win my image back, man! Can't have people thinking I'm a loser forever! That's _your_ image." He laughed, seeing Skinner's scowl. "Kidding!"


End file.
